


Ideals

by hawke (PicklesCook)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, M/M, Post-Here Lies the Abyss, Pre-Relationship, Vague References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-03-30 07:19:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3927865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PicklesCook/pseuds/hawke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is what I feel would have happened after Here Lies The Abyss with my male mage Trevelyan, Jude. He executed Erimond in righteous anger even though he swore never to execute anyone and stopped Leliana from killing her agent at the beginning of the game. So he gets drunk because he regrets it. There aren't that big of spoilers in here and you don't really need to know what happened in Here Lies The Abyss to read this other than everything was fucked up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ideals

He was drunk. Jude didn’t think he has ever been this drunk, his head was too heavy to lift and any time he opened his eyes the world swam. His thoughts are just a jumbled mess, everything non sequitur, nothing making sense.  Which, really, is why he decided to drink himself into oblivion in the first place. He doesn’t want to think. Doesn’t want to remember. All he knew right then was that he was incredibly drunk in the tavern and the bartender wouldn’t serve him any longer. The Bull had tried talking to him earlier, but the conversation was more a series of grunts and “leave me alone Bull” so Jude had been left alone once again. He wondered what the people thought of him now, their great leader reduced to a drunken mess. Jude didn’t want to be their leader anyways, so it only seemed fair he didn’t have to act like one.

The stool next to him scraped across the floor, reverberating through his head like a dragon’s screech. Jude sluggishly opened his eyes, blinking at the blurry figure sitting next to him. He blinked again and the image cleared a bit, just enough to see dark hair, dark olive skin and that ridiculous mustache.

“Dorian,” Jude slurred. It came out more of “Door-ran” than his actual name. He tried to smile, but he wasn’t sure if it worked or not. Maker he was drunk. He watched Dorian call the bartender over, ask him something, and then Dorian was being handed a glass of water, and what looked like red wine. Dorian slid the glass of water to him, face as serious as Jude’s ever seen it.

“Drink, Trevelyan, or you are going to wake up with a nasty little hangover tomorrow. Trust me, you really don’t want that.” Jude looked from Dorian to the glass, mind sluggishly trying to make his arm move to grasp it. Dorian waited patiently as Jude slid an arm from underneath his head and almost knocked the glass over before finally wrapping his fingers around it. The cold felt nice against his heated skin.

“Thanks,” Jude muttered, raising his head to sip from the cup. He was surprised he could even lift his head.

“How much did you drink?”

“I lost count,” It took him a while to answer, trying and failing to remember, “more than six.”

“Please tell me you were drinking the Ferelden piss and not something stronger.” Jude didn’t answer him, staring instead into the glass of water. He felt sick. His thoughts were coming back to him, swirling and haunting him. His own words were taunting him, “This is exactly the time for ideals” circling back to the forefront of his mind. Jude blinked at the water, wishing he could have more of that nice bottle of Antivan brandy. Dorian sighed, setting his hand on Jude’s shoulder. The weight of it felt nice, grounding Jude to the moment instead of his thoughts. He turned to look at Dorian, fully seeing him for the first time that night. Dorian looked exhausted. His hair was a mess, strands falling down his forehead and into his black ringed eyes. His face was set into a worried stare, mouth pulled down at the edges. Jude wished he could kiss that frown away, but Dorian had never showed any interest in him beyond friendship and that was okay with Jude.

“I’m sorry.” Jude felt the words rush out, tears coming to his eyes quickly. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t,” He paused, wiping away the tears that threatened to fall, “I’m the Inquisitor. I shouldn’t be seen like this. Moral and all,” Dorian tightened his grip, leaning closer to Jude until their foreheads touched.

“You do all you can for them, you are remarkable, Jude,” Dorian’s hand moved up, soothing the back of Jude’s neck with his thumb. “But you are only a man, Inquisitor or not.” Jude let out a small laugh. He closed his eyes to savor Dorian’s movements, hoping the moment wouldn’t end. He wanted to be this close to him forever. “Oh? Did I say something funny?”

“No, that was just the first time you’ve ever said my name.” Jude opened his eyes again; glad to see the upward tilt to Dorian’s mouth.  “It was nice.”

“I’ll have to do it more often then,” Jude was smiling now too, relaxing into the intimacy of the moment. He was too drunk and too distracted my Dorian’s closeness to remember they weren’t in private. Too caught up in the moment to remember that Dorian was just his friend and that kissing him right then would be a colossally bad idea.

“Dorian,” This time it came out right, falling off his tongue in a whisper as he leaned forward, ghosting his lips against the other man’s. Jude’s eyes fluttered closed as he moved closer, putting more pressure into the kiss. It took him a moment to realize Dorian wasn’t kissing him back, thumb stilled on the back of Jude’s neck. Jude jerked away; face flushing more than it already was. “I’m,” Jude stuttered out, embarrassment and shame flooding him. He stumbled off his stool, knocking over the glass of water, feet tangling together as the world spun for a moment. Dorian was frozen, eyes wide as his hand dropped from where it had been resting on Jude’s neck. “I’m sorry.” Jude felt like he couldn’t get the words out fast enough. Maker’s balls, he fucked this one up. How could he have thought this was a good idea? He felt sick again. Yet, he could still feel the tingling pressure of where his lips had touched Dorian’s and if he was alone he would press his fingers against them.

The rest of the tavern was staring at them, watching like hawks. Jude wanted to run, but he wasn’t sure he could in this state. His legs were wobbly beneath him and he felt like any moment they would stop working and he’d be on the floor.

“I should go.” Water was dripping off the counter, glass broken on the ground and Jude felt like everything was closing in on him again. The Fade, the execution, and now Dorian. Everything was a mess and it was all his fault. Drinking hadn’t helped anything and he had been foolish to think it would. Tears came to his eyes again and this time they overflowed, falling down his cheeks like rain, catching in his eyelashes as he blinked.

Dorian was still frozen in his seat. The tavern was so silent you’d think no one else was there. Jude couldn’t move, even though he wanted to flee. Tears flowed freely down his face, blurring his vision as someone approached. He turned to see the Bull walking over, Cole like a wisp following along.

“Come on boss. Let me take you back to your room.” The Bull gently cupped his wrist. Jude nodded shakily, letting himself be pulled along. He could hear Dorian get off the stool and start apologizing to the bartender and everyone who would listen.

“Thoughts rushing, the Fade lurking behind closed eyes, _T_ _his is exactly the time for ideals!_ You were so angry, people were dead and it was your fault, someone had to pay.” Cole was suddenly in front of them, eyes wide and haunting. He could see all his pain in Cole’s eyes. Jude had to look away, staring at the Bull’s hand engulfing his wrist instead. “But it’s not your fault, Jude. You made the right decision.”

“Kid,” The Bull warned, voice rumbling through the air. Cole ducked his head before straightening his shoulders and stubbornly looking Jude in the eyes. Jude couldn’t look away this time, locked in Cole’s eyes, the stubborn set of his jaw.

“The kiss wasn’t your fault either. It was just the wrong time.” Jude couldn’t help but think he was the wrong person too. Cole’s lips turned down further. “Why can’t you believe he wants you too?”

“Cole, seriously, this isn’t the right time.” The Bull started walking again, patting Cole on the shoulder with his free hand. “Talk to him when he’s not drunk off his ass.” Cole nodded seriously, as they passed him, as if he saw it as an order. Jude didn’t want to have that conversation ever, but stopping Cole was a hard thing to do when he set his mind to helping. When they got outside, the cold air rushed over Jude’s skin, cooling him in an instant. He shivered, looking at the Bull with wonder. He wanted to forget everything that had happened in the tavern, but he was sobering up, his head pounding with an incoming migraine. They walked in silence across the court yard and up the steps. The throne room was empty at this time at night; the only sound was bird wings echoing from the tower. The Bull walked him to the door to his quarters, stopping just outside it.

“Thank you,” Jude whispered. He felt like talking any louder would disturb the peace. The Bull looked so serious in the low lighting from the lamps. He was encompassed in darkness, the warm glow of the fire lighting only the left side of his face, catching his horns in an almost angelic light.

“The kid is right you know.” He didn’t look at Jude as he said this, eyes directed at the throne, “You think everything’s always your fault and you never let anyone into that head of yours.” He turned to look at him then, face neutral. Tonight was apparently “be serious at Jude” night. He couldn’t blame them though, he was a wreck. “Cole wants to help, and so do we. Stop pushing us away because you’re scared of losing us. We are your friends, boss. We aren’t going to leave you or stick you in a fucking Circle.” Jude looked away, a lump caught in his throat. Bull sighed and finally let go of his wrist. “Look, when you want to stop isolating yourself like an idiot, you know where to find us.”

Jude listened, standing frozen at the door, as Bull left.


	2. Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a short 'after' because leaving those boys sad and alone made me feel bad.

The reason Jude normally didn’t drink, was because he hated hangovers. He knew simple remedies that could help, but in the circle he would have had to go through the first enchanter and admit he was drinking in the first place and in Skyhold he would still have to look the disapproving healers in the face. He hated those disappointed “you are more than this” looks. His head was pounding as he finally got his eyes open.  He looked helplessly around his room for an antidote and was surprised to actually see one sitting on top the table.

“Oh,” he reached out his hand, grasping the flask in his grasp before downing it, blessing Andraste herself at the relief that flooded through him.

“I see you’ve finally awoken, Inquisitor. It’s nice of you to join the living, yes?” Dorian’s voice shocked him, making him fumble with the empty flask in his hands as he tried to set it back down. Jude quickly sat up, turning to stare at the man.

“I, yes, I,” He didn’t know what to say. ‘Hey, Dorian, sorry for that kiss last night, I was drunk and upset and I’m also very in love with you’ or better yet, ‘Hey Dorian sorry for assaulting you and then running away! Fuck that pesky little consent thing’? He couldn’t say any of that! “I’m sorry” He blurted out instead, hoping Dorian would understand all of the ‘sorry’s  he was referencing with that.

“About what part? Spilling your glass on me and then running away? I didn’t quite like being left with the bill either. I expect repayment, oh Herald.” Oh. Jude could tell Dorian was irked with him by the way he said herald. He hadn’t called him Herald since Corififace. He covered his face with his hands, relief from the potion overshadowed by the tension in the room.

“Everything, Maker balls, I’m so sorry.” He couldn’t even look at Dorian, “And you still took care of me! I don’t know how to make this up to you. I’ve royally messed this up.” Jude could hear the other mage move away from the desk and to the bed, soft footsteps against the stone.

“You can make it up to me by,” Dorian gently pulled his hands away, face soft and vulnerable, “telling me what happened last night. What upset you so? Maker, you were plastered. Do you even remember all that happened? I’m not sure I even want to know.”

“You are too kind.” Jude took in a deep breath. “Look, I didn’t mean for any of that to happen. I wasn’t even looking to get that drunk, it kind of all spiraled out of control.”

“But why were you looking to get drunk in the first place! You know you can talk to us, don’t you? Getting drunk, randomly kissing people, breaking things? I would have never pegged you as such.”

“I don’t really,”

“You made it our business by turning it into the public eye. Tell me what’s wrong, Jude. You can’t let it tear you apart. We need you.”

“The Fade, having to choose between Hawke and Stroud! Fucking,” _Deep breaths, deep breaths, come on don’t cry in front of him,_ “All those people counting on me to do the right thing; to choose a man’s sacrifice, to decide what to do with the wardens who’d killed hundreds in the name of duty, to kill in the name of justice. I swore never to use my rank to kill. No executions, and yet I signed Erimond to his death. I had to choose between Hawke and Stroud to die. How am I supposed to deal with breaking all my vows? How am I supposed to deal with all this weight on me?”

“Trevelyan,”

“I was never meant to be a leader, Dorian. It’s not who I am.”

“Jude,” Dorian had scrambled onto the bed during that speech, pulling Jude into a half hug sitting across from him, “you did the right thing.”

“How do you know?” Jude hated that his voice broke over the words. Hated the way he was holding Dorian desperately. He couldn’t stop the tears from flowing as Dorian rubbed his back softly.

“I know that you wouldn’t have done it if it wasn’t the right thing. You are a good man. No one can take that from you.” Dorian pulled them apart, resting their foreheads together instead; an imitation of the position from last night.

“I’m not made out for this. I’m not,”

“You are the Inquisitor. You were there when we needed you most, I believe in you.”

“You sound like Cassandra,” Jude couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of his throat. It caught in Dorians, and they held onto each other as they giggled like chantry girls. The calmed down slowly, still pressed into each other, barely an inch apart. “I’m still sorry.”

“About what? Surely you don’t think I was that upset about the spilled water, it doesn’t stain you know. Well, knowing the Ferelden water holes you like to call Lakes, it might.”

“No, I’m sorry about the kiss.” Jude closed his eyes again, scared of what he’d see in Dorian’s.

“Oh,” The room swept into silence, their breathing barely audible. “Look at me,” Jude shook his head no. “You are like a petulant child. _Look_ at me, please.” Jude popped one eye open to the sight of an adoring smile on Dorian’s lips. He quickly shot his eyes up to his eyes, cheeks flushing red. “I didn’t mind the kiss, a bit public yes, but overall not truly unwanted.” Jude blinked, surprised and confused. How could Dorian even want to kiss him? He was all, well him. And Dorian was so magnificent. He’d seen the way the Bull and Dorian had been watching each other. What changed? How Dorian could choose him over Bull? “Oh stop thinking you. I’m usually the one who over thinks this. Tell me, what is that interesting brain of your’s thinking? Something dreadfully wrong I’d assume by the look on your face.”

“Why?” was the only thing Jude could think to say.

“Well, you are handsome, and of course, _I_ am handsome, and handsome people tend to attract one another.” Dorian joked, eyes still serious even if his words weren’t. Neither of them were good with talking things out, laying themselves bare. They couldn’t just drop their guards, always afraid of the other leaving, of the inevitable let down, the pain.

“Dorian,”

“Yes, Inquisitor?” Dorian’s eyes flicked to his lips for a second, licking his own distractedly.

“Can I kiss you?” The answers could come later. Dorian was here and willing, and he wasn’t sure how long that would last. He took his chance, leaning in slowly, giving him time to back out. Dorian’s hand came up to cup his neck, exactly like the night before.

“Amatus, I,” Their lips connecting interrupted Dorian’s speech. They pressed together, Jude scrambling on his knees closer, trying to not break the kiss. He felt desperate all of a sudden; emotional whip lash pushing him further into Dorian’s arms. When Jude settled into Dorian’s lap, they both groaned into each other’s mouths. Dorian’s hand scratched down his neck, the other holding tightly onto his hip. They pulled back to breath, only so far that their nose still grazed each other.

“I’m sorry,” Jude whispered as he slid his eyes shut, pressing a gentle kiss to Dorian’s lips. Dorian laughed against him, lips pulled into a smile as he tried to kiss, body shaking with holding it in as much as he could.

“Stop being sorry for things you don’t regret.”

“I’m,” Dorian forced their lips together, both of them laughing into the kiss. They quieted, slow movements and soft touches, silent words passed between brushes of lips. Jude relaxed against him, hands just resting against the other’s neck, his own bent down to kiss while sitting on his knees. They pulled apart and Dorian pushed them over until Jude’s back was against the bed, Dorian towering over.

“What does this make us?” Jude was the first to speak up, just staring into Dorian’s eyes. He watched the other mage close up briefly, shoulders drawn tight, arms stiffening before he relaxed all over. He blinked, really looking at Jude.

“All on me then?”

“Should it be all on me?” Dorian sagged against Jude with those words, face buried in his neck. Jude felt the sigh against his skin, making him shiver underneath Dorian’s weight.

“I like you. More than I should. More than might be wise.”

“What does that mean? Do you want to end it?”

“I won’t be pleased, but I’d rather now than later. Later might be dangerous.”

“Why dangerous?” Jude whispered, scared of what that meant, scared of everything that was happening. Dorian kissed his neck, mustache brushing against the skin. Jude closed his eyes preparing for the worst.

“Walking away might be harder then.” Dorian’s grip tightened on Jude’s shoulder with his own words. He moved his hand to pull back up, looking Jude in the eyes, holding the position with determination and fear in his eyes. Whatever Jude decided, he knew Dorian would follow through with.

“I want us. Whatever you are willing to give into that. Everything you are willing to give,” Jude let out a delighted chuckle. “I don’t want us to walk away and pretend we don’t mean something to each other. I’m tired of being afraid of loving someone.”

“Is that what this is? Love?” Dorian seemed to be skeptical about it, using the word like a forever out of reach thing. Jude knew that tone, had felt it living in the circle, knowing that loving someone would just be Templar bait. It might not have been the same obstacles, but they both new what it was like to never trust in love.

“It’s whatever we make it to be. We don’t have to hide this, Dorian. Your father isn’t here; the Templars aren’t going to use you against me. We are away from them and we are allowed to not be ashamed of who we love anymore.” Jude let out another laugh, giddy with the feeling of being free. Finally, utterly free of the Circle and its chains. He wondered briefly if this is what Dorian was feeling. If this is what Anders talked about in _The Tale of the Champion_?  He didn’t have to be afraid of the Templars, could love a man without fear they’d be ripped apart.

“It’s hard to accept,” Dorian still doubted, eyes searching Jude’s giddy ones for something.

“You said you believe in me. Do that here as well.” And Jude pulled him down for another kiss and another and another. Dorian started chuckling, moving his weight to one hand to caress Jude’s face.

“I do,” Dorian murmured against his lips, which sent them both into a laughing pit, Dorian flopping beside him instead of above.

“This isn’t a marriage, Dorian. “ Jude was still giggling.

“Imagine it,” He could see Dorian wave his hands in the air from his spot on the bed, “Classically dark Tevinter décor, you by your thrown, me walking down in the most extravagant dress yet to be seen.” Jude was covering his face and laughing. “Josephine would be dying to host it, you know her sweet soul. She’d fight Leliana over what dress, by far.” Dorian laughed along, words barely making it out between laughing fits. “Imagine fitting the Iron Bull into those dreadful Inquisition Formal outfits Josephine made us wear to the Ball. The tailor would be in fits.” Jude clung to Dorian’s hand, smile spread across his face. “No, we simply cannot have a wedding until Cole stops terrorizing the guests. The Queen would be awaiting an invitation, of course. We can’t have Cole trying to help and end up scaring off the _Queen_!”

“Please,” Jude wheezed, running out of breath, “I can’t,”

“Alright, alright. The weddings off, I understand, my dear Inquisitor.”  Dorian turned his head to look at him, their eyes twinkling with happiness.

“No wedding, certainly.” Jude tried to nod seriously, but the smile wouldn’t leave his face. He moved closer, awkward scooching on the bed until they could touch foreheads with little effort. The laid there, dozing in and out until a scout woke them for a War Table meeting. Jude blushed, but pulled Dorian into a kiss before the Scout could close the door all the way.

“Maker’s breath, I’ll never get tired of that.” Dorian whispered to him, smile smug as he pulled away.

“I wish I didn’t have to go.” Jude turned away to get off the bed and start dressing, like he should have done when he’d awoken.” He flashed Dorian a smile as he pulled on the horrifying outfit Solas had given to him to use while at Skyhold. Apparently a tradition for the place that his human self couldn’t understand.

“Ah, but duties call.” Dorian stood and strode toward him, stalking up in front and smiling down at him. “Amatus,” Dorian whispered, tilting Jude’s face up into his, a soft kiss to the side of his mouth.

“Will you ever tell me what that means?” Jude pulled away to continue dressing, face flushed from the intimate kiss.

“Tonight.” Jude snapped up and looked at him; Dorian’s eyes flirty.

“Is that a promise?” Jude asked, buckling the last blighted buckle on the shirt.

“You’ll have to see.” Dorian whisked out of the room with that, leaving Jude breathless and flushing to his toes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was kind of asked for? and i hope it was what you were actually asking for! might have another one featuring letting the inner circle into his head as well and apologizing/thanking Bull and Cole for taking care of him and sticking with him even though he was being daft


End file.
